


You're My Dad. Boogie Woogie Woogie.

by mcb_06



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fluff, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, If DC won't give me Batdad then I'll do it myself, Swearing, This literally just Bruce being a good dad, because Jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:52:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22641349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcb_06/pseuds/mcb_06
Summary: Jason gets sick on patrol. Bruce takes care of him.That's it. That's the whole fic.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 343





	You're My Dad. Boogie Woogie Woogie.

“‘ey, B?” comes Jason’s voice over the comms It’s been hours since the others called it a night, but Bruce and Jason have the same problem with knowing when to stop. “You still out here?”

“Yes. What is it, Hood?”

“I— I… I’m not… I’m not feelin’ so hot.” Now that he hears it again, there’s a definite slur to Jason’s voice. He stops dead in his tracks and brings up Jason’s coordinates—he’s up in the Water District, by the Dixon Docks. “I don’t… I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to… to make it back myself.”

“What’s wrong?” He turns north and begins sprinting across the rooftops, snow crunching underneath his boots.

“There was… There were these kids. And they were fuckin’ around by the river. One of ‘em slipped.” Bruce already knows where this is going and speeds up. “So I… I jumped in after ‘im, didn’t I? He’s fine, by the way—sent them all off to Leslie’s.” Jason gives a loud, breathless laugh that makes Bruce twitch. “It’s _real_ fucking cold, B.”

“How long ago?” He brings up Jason’s stats and is incredibly grateful that Tim convinced Jason to upgrade his suit. He’s also been clocked in for the past nineteen hours, but that’s something that Bruce will worry about later. His body temperature is low—though, Jason has tended to run a little cold since he came back.

“What? It was… twenty minutes? Twenty-five? I gotta be honest with you, B. Wasn’t exac’ly keeping track.” There’s a soft thud. “ _Fuck’s sake_.” Jason sighs. “‘m fine. Just tripped.”

“Stay where you are. I’ll be right there.”

“Can do, B. Can do.”

————

Bruce finds Jason in an alleyway, sprawled out on his back in the snow. He’s stock-still as Bruce approaches and Bruce’s heart almost stops.

“Hood?” he says quietly, crouching down. Jason twitches.

“‘ruce?” he murmurs, sounding painfully like he did when he was fifteen. “That you?”

“Yeah, Jay. It’s Bruce,” he replies. “Can you stand up for me, champ?”

Jason gives a pitiful attempt at rolling onto his side, arms flailing out stiffly. With Bruce’s help, he manages to heave himself to his feet. His suit is completely soaked and there are clumps of snow stuck to his jacket. He’s also shivering—which, in this circumstance, is actually relieving.

“Let’s get you home,” Bruce says. Jason has a safehouse within walking distance—near Robinson Park—and it’s equipped with a medical bay, should the worst happen.

“Sounds good.”

The snow crunches under their feet as they walk. It takes longer than it should, because Jason is struggling to put one foot in front of the other, but eventually, they make it. Jason is barely even lucid at this point—he’s rambling something incoherent about ‘A Christmas Carol’ and calling Bruce a miser.

Bruce retrieves his set of keys from his belt and unlocks the balcony door. He all but carries Jason over to the couch and Jason all but collapses onto it.

“We need to get you out of those wet clothes, okay?”

He’s using the voice that is usually reserved for when someone’s injured and Bruce doesn’t want them to know how bad it really is. Jason hates it with a passion—hisses and gripes at Bruce for cooing at him like he’s a toddler—but Bruce can’t help it this time.

Jason cocks his head at him and Bruce can see the glare, even through the helmet. Eventually, Jason settles against the back of the couch again. “Sure thing, _boss_.”

Jason starts to peel off his suit, and Bruce wanders into Jason’s bedroom to get him some dry clothes. When he gets back, Jason is down to his boxers, shivering and scowling at the floor. He gives Jason the clothes, eyes lingering over the scars and blotches of yellowing bruises and the crescents of half-healed bullet wounds.

Jason begins to dress himself, ranting quietly about Bruce being a mother hen and trying to smother him. Bruce bites back a smile and nods. “Whatever you say, champ. Whatever you say,” he says, turning around. “Do you want me to make you a drink?”

“Maybe.”

————

As expected, Jason’s kitchen is immaculately clean and Bruce gets to work making Jason a hot drink. He finds a recipe for Alfred’s hot chocolate stuck to Jason’s fridge with one of those magnets that you can get at theme parks. It’s a little photo of Jason, Roy, and Lian on a rollercoaster, all grinning.

He carries the drink carefully back into the living room and finds Jason bundled up in a throw blanket that he’d pulled off the back of the couch, with his cat, Lady, pawing at his outstretched hand.

“Come, ‘ere, Lady,” Jason murmurs, reaching forwards to scoop her up. She meows indignantly and he sits her in his lap. He smiles up at Bruce when he hands the drink over. “Thanks, B.”

“No problem, Jay,” he replies, ruffling Jason’s hair. “Are you still cold?”

“A little.” Jason takes a tentative sip of his drink. “There are some spare blankets in the laundry room.”

“I’ll be right back, then,” he says, ruffling Jason’s hair again.

————

“Stay?” Jason asks, an edge of desperation in his voice. “Please?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Jason smiles at him and Bruce can feel himself tearing up.

“You can borrow some of my clothes,” Jason says, stifling a yawn. “Batsuit looks kinda cold.”

Bruce goes into Jason’s room and pulls on the first set of clothes that he can get his hands on. He’ll tidy up their gear later—right now, he just wants to spend time with his son.

Jason shuffles over on the couch and opens up his fortress of blankets long enough for Bruce to sit down. He rests his head against Bruce’s shoulder and Bruce wraps an arm around him.

“Can we watch a movie?” Jason mumbles into his blankets. “I have some stuff recorded.”

“Of course, we can.” Bruce reaches over to grab the remote and Jason gives a quiet harumph of protest at the temporary loss of his headrest. “Any preferences?”

“I—“ Jason yawns. “Don’t mind.”

In the end, they settle on some romcom in Cantonese that Jason insists he only has recorded because Cass likes it. Bruce teases him about it and Jason grumbles back, elbowing him.

Jason goes completely quietly when the movie starts, completely enraptured, and is fast asleep before the halfway mark. Bruce looks down at him and presses a kiss onto the crown of his head. “Goodnight, Jason.”

————

When Jason wakes up, Bruce isn’t there. He sits up blearily, head aching and chest feeling a little empty until he hears light clattering from his kitchen.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast.”

Jason frowns— _Bruce_ cooking? “Please don’t set my kitchen on fire,” he says eventually, revelling in the way that Bruce’s laughter spills into the living room. “I still haven’t fixed the kitchen in the other safehouse.”

“That was entirely Tim’s fault and you know it.” There’s a loud clang, followed by Bruce swearing. “Okay, maybe not _completely_ , but just trust me on this, champ.”

“Just don’t poison us. I know what you’re like.”

“Don’t tempt me, Jay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I am aware that this is kinda OOC, but I wanted to write something happy for once lmao. I also blatantly don't know how hypothermia works - just roll with it.


End file.
